


Icarus Meets The Old Man and the Sea (but Wayhaught)

by loveisgravity



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Climbing, EFA Fic Challenge 2019, F/F, Nicole’s rippling shoulder muscles, The Old Man and the Sea, but silly, hang gliders, icarus - Freeform, toothpaste
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 08:38:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17864045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveisgravity/pseuds/loveisgravity
Summary: Waverly goes running towards a cliff, terrified of jumping.  Nicole is on a mission to catch a big, beautiful fish.  What’s more silly than boob-smushing two tragedies together?  Carrying toothpaste in your fannypack.





	Icarus Meets The Old Man and the Sea (but Wayhaught)

Waverly:  
Waverly and Wynonna burst out the back door of the mansion. It was secluded on a wooded hillside. About twenty feet behind it was a rocky cliff that dropped to a short beach and bled off into the ocean. Wynonna wrestled with two small hang gliders that Waverly found in the basement during their captivity. Clootie had been holding them hostage in the house. 

“You’re sure this is going to work?” Wynonna asked, as she tried to run with the cumbersome wings. 

“Almost positive.” Waverly said in reply. 

Wynonna stopped and gave her sister a sharp look.

“Do you have a better solution?” Asked Waverly, whipping her hair around and giving her sister an equally fiery look. “This is our chance to escape while Clootie is distracted with the moving van. Once everything is loaded up, all that’s left to do is tie up loose ends.” She paused for dramatic effect. “And we’re the loose ends.”

“Ok fine.” Wynonna held out one of the wings. 

“We’re doing this together, right?” Asked Waverly. 

“Of course,” Wynonna huffed out. “Why are you even asking that?”

“Because you have that look in your eye, like you want to lock me up in a toolbox or something.” 

Wynonna didn’t say anything as Waverly took the glider. One of the rear corners hit a rock and an edge of the fabric pulled away from the frame.

“Fudgenuggets!” Waverly cursed. 

Wynonna stifled a laugh. “Way to go. Now what are you going to do?”

“I know. I have some toothpaste in my bag.” Waverly rummaged around in her fannypack. 

“Wait. You have toothpaste in your pack? I’ve been suffering through your bad breath for days, and you had toothpaste with you?” Wynonna questioned her.

“It’s for pimples.” She said, not looking up.

Wynonna dropped her wing. “Why do you care about pimples?” 

“You never know when you might meet someone, and I want my skin to be clear when I do.”

“Look around you, baby girl. We’re all alone. We’re frickin’ hostages. Who are you going to meet out here?” Wynonna gestured to the edge of the cliff. The sea was a wide expanse of nothing, not even a blue color, just an unending gray and occasional white cap. On the horizon was the dark shape of a distant island. 

“Fine, there’s nobody here, but I bet you’re glad I have the toothpaste now. We can use it like glue.”

She squeezed the travel-size tube, emptied out a large amount into her palm, and then spread it on the edge of the fabric that had been ripped away. She held the fabric and frame together for several seconds to allow the paste to dry. And miraculously, the fabric stuck. 

“It’s not perfect, but we don’t have time for anything else. Are you ready?” Waverly asked, turning to face Wynonna.

“You go first. If the glider can’t carry your weight, it certainly won’t carry mine.” 

“So, you’re just going to watch me plunge to my death?” Waverly asked.

“Yes. And if you don’t get a move on, I’ll push you myself. It won’t take long for that goon to notice we’re missing.” 

“Ok. Here we go!” Waverly got her triangle glider into place and held the handle. “You’re right behind me, Wynonna.” It was more of a question than a statement.

“Yes. Now go!” Wynonna yelled.

Waverly took a deep breath, and let out a high pitched scream as she ran as fast as she could out and over the edge of the cliff. 

Her stomach fell out of her as she dropped several feet into nothing. Her mind, in complete panic, was sure she was dropping to her doom.

Then a draft of wind came up the cliff and lifted the triangular sail. It held her weight. Waverly laughed out in triumph, tears blurring her eyes as the wind and sheer joy washed over her body. She steadied her grip on the bar and tentatively looked over her shoulder to find Wynonna.

To her horror, Wynonna had left her glider on the cliff edge and was walking back to the large mansion where they had been held. 

The truth of the moment hit her. Wynonna was going back to fight Clootie alone. 

“WYNONNA!” Waverly screeched. “You cow-pie! You promised!”

Just then an air current tossed the glider to the right. Waverly clutched the bar and choked off the rest of her curse.

She could feel her hands shaking as the glider righted itself. “Ok, Waverly. Stay cool, girl. You got this.” She muttered to herself. She felt the currents of air run under the wing, supporting the glider. “There you go. That’s the ticket.” She started to smile as she realized that by shifting her weight slightly, she could steer the contraption a little. 

Her hands were still shaking, which in turn made the bar vibrate, but Waverly felt her confidence grow. The glider was working just as she thought it would. It wouldn’t hold up forever, but if she could turn the glider around, she thought she could make it back to the cliff and help Wynonna take on Clootie. Then she could murder her sister herself. 

She was well out over the ocean by that point. Waverly was too afraid to look back over her shoulder because the shift in weight might throw off the whole glider. She knew where the cliff was. If only she could make a slow, gentle turn, then she could try to use the updraft by the cliff to get her back to where she started. She leaned slightly to her left to test out her theory. The glider slowly changed its course. She was still heading out over the ocean, but if she kept it up, she would slowly turn back to the cliff. 

“Ok.” Waverly said, incredulously. “Ok. This is working. Don’t look down, and I’m simply making a wide U-turn.”

Just then a seagull soared nearby and cried out at the awkward interloper. The sudden noise spooked Waverly and she gave a jerk to the handle bar. That was all it took to free the toothpasted corner of the fabric from the wire. 

“Swizzle-sticks.” Waverly cursed, as the glider wobbled and dropped a few feet. Waverly forced the handlebar under control, but her goal quickly changed from landing on the cliff to not crashing into the sea. 

Waverly tried to find a current that would allow her to drop gently, but the more she manhandled the bar, the more the fabric tore from the frame, and the faster she plummeted. 

In her last few seconds, she let out a terrified scream and hoped Wynonna heard her as she hit the water hard.

 

Nicole:  
Nicole pulled at the oars of her small, wooden rowboat. Her hands were close to blistering despite their deep calluses. She was farther out than she had ever been before. She rowed because all the old fishermen in her village ridiculed her. They told her she needed a man with her. They told her it was impossible to fish this far out to sea. Well, the old fishermen could bite her. She’d show them. She’d bring home the biggest, best fish ever, and then they’d be forced to eat their words as she ate her fish. 

It was this thought that sustained her. Her back ached, her arms were so tired that her cramps had cramps. But her beautiful fish was out there. And she’d show them all.

The sun beat down on her bare shoulders as her muscles rippled under her skin. The colorful cloth of her sports bra was clearly visible through the sweat-stained, white tank top. 

Still she pulled. That beautiful fish was hers.

A strange shadow passed over her boat and Nicole turned to look behind her. The hazy, dark edge of a cliff from a neighboring island was creeping up over the edge of the sea. Nicole looked up to see what had caused the shadow. Her oar landed awkwardly in the water, the boat lurched to the side, and it threw Nicole off balance.

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It must be a trick of the sun, or dehydration. Because soaring silently above her was the ugliest bird she’d ever seen. Or maybe it was an angel.

It’s wide wing slowly sailed around. 

“That’s no bird, that’s a hang glider.” Nicole told herself. Just then the glider wobbled and took a nose dive. The person flying it managed to straighten it out, but seemed to have little control over the wing. It glided down, before dropping sharply, righting itself, and then twisting in a fall the rest of the way to the ocean. Just before the glider hit the water, Nicole heard a cry for help drift over the wind.

Nicole grabbed her oars and pulled as if she was fresh out of bed. She knew she didn’t have long to get to the person, if they even survived the fall. She pulled without thought; she pulled because that was all she could do. 

Pull. Save them. Pull. Save them. She repeated it over and over, and set her pace by it. 

Nicole looked behind her and could see the dark shape floating on the water. The person, a woman by the looks of it, was lying on top of her wing. She wasn’t moving.

Nicole continued to pull until she reached the floating wing. One corner of the fabric was loose and startied to sink below the gentle roll of the waves. Nicole grabbed the frame to keep it above the water and used it to drag the boat closer. 

There came a low groan from the woman and she rolled her head from one side to the other. 

So she was alive, Nicole thought. And apparently didn’t break her neck in the fall. Nicole looked over her body, nothing looked amiss. No obvious broken bones. In fact, she looked perfect. Too perfect. 

Nicole reached out and touched the ankle nearest to her. She wasn’t sure if her mind was playing tricks because the other woman was gorgeous. Nicole could see the musculature of her arms and legs, and her long brown hair was damp and splayed out around wing.

The woman groaned again, and Nicole jumped into action. Leaning out over the edge of her rowboat, Nicole grabbed the other woman’s leg and pulled her closer to the boat. When she was alongside, Nicole brought an arm under her shoulders and both lifted and rolled the other woman into the stern. She set her down and Nicole used her life jacket as a pillow. 

Next, she gave a hard tug at the wing and pulled it from the water. One corner was badly ripped. She looked at it closely, there appeared to be a white slime covering the edge of the frame where the fabric was torn. Just then Nicole got a sniff of something strange. Was that mint? Nicole ran her finger over the frame. “Toothpaste?” She questioned, as the wind suddenly caught the wing and pulled it out of the boat. 

Nicole looked around, the closest land was behind her. She squinted her eyes and could just make out the shape of a house in contrast to the dark cliff. She looked back at the tiny woman resting in her boat. 

Should she start rowing back to the cliff? Nicole wondered what she should do next. Someone had to be worried about her, nobody glides alone. Nobody sane, that is. Nicole studied the woman. She didn’t look crazy, but who puts toothpaste on a hang glider? 

In the end, Nicole decided to start rowing to the cliff. It meant a longer trip home for her, but the woman needed help as soon as possible. 

Nicole used long strokes to bring her to the cliff. She didn’t want to overtax her already sore arms and it gave her a chance to really observe the woman in her boat.

Her skin was smooth and kissed with a tan, and the sharp edge of her jaw stood out as her head rested on its side. She wore a sleeveless shirt that exposed her stomach, tight denim shorts, sandals, and a fannypack. Not exactly ideal clothing for hang gliding.

Nicole kept up her slow pace and watched to make sure the woman was still breathing. 

A groan rose up and the woman brought a hand to her face. She was shielding her eyes from the sun. Nicole let go of the oars and stripped off her tank top. She crawled over and placed the shirt across the corner of the boat to try and create some shade for the woman’s face.

“Hey, are you ok?” Nicole asked gently.

Another groan.

“Ma’am? Can you tell me where you’re hurt?”

Groan. The woman rolled her head to the other side and held her temple. “Where am I?”

“You’re in my boat. I pulled you from the water.”

“What happened?”

“You fell from the sky while hang gliding.”

“Hang gliding?”

“Don’t you remember?” Nicole asked worried. 

“I feel sick.”

Nicole leaned back and grabbed her water bottle. “Here, why don’t you have a sip of water, if you can?”

The other woman nodded her head slightly and slowly opened one eye. 

Nicole handed her the bottle. “Do you need help sitting up?”

“Yeah.” She said.

Nicole bent over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She pulled the other woman into a sitting position. The petite woman steadied herself briefly before lifting the bottle to her lips. 

“Ugh, plastic? That’s bad for the planet.” She grumbled.

Nicole gave her an unamused glare, but the other woman missed it. Her eyes were closed again as she drank.

“Can you tell me your name?” Nicole asked, sitting back to give her some space. 

“Waverly.” 

Nicole nodded. That was a good sign. “I’m Nicole. You’re lucky I happened to be fishing this far out.” 

“Fishing?” 

“Yeah, all the old men in my village thought it was impossible for a woman to fish. So I was proving them wrong.” 

“Men?” Waverly’s brow furrowed. “Women?” Her head then jerked up and she looked Nicole directly in the eye. “Wynonna!” She gasped.

“Wynonna?”

“My sister, she’s still back at the house.” Waverly sounded panicked. 

Nicole looked at the house sitting on top of the cliff. They were closer now, drifting in the boat, and Nicole scanned the short beach. She didn’t see anyone.

“Is that the house?” Nicole looked back at Waverly.

“Lady…” Waverly started.

“Nicole.”

“Nicole,” Waverly corrected herself and cleared her throat to sound more authoritative, “I’m kidnapping you and commandeering this ship.” Waverly tried to hold both of her eyes open, then stopped and held her head in her hands.

Nicole snickered and looked around her “ship.” Waverly must have hit her head pretty hard to think she could kidnap anyone, or that the tiny rowboat was a ship. Nicole decided to change subjects.

“Can I ask why there was toothpaste on your glider?” 

“I needed glue.”

“So you used toothpaste?”

“All I had was toothpaste. My sister and I were kidnapped by this gangster name Clootie, and we were trying to escape.”

“Do you normally bring toothpaste when you’re kidnapped?”

“I had it for pimples.” Waverly said in frustration.

“Pimples?”

“Yes, pimples. I want my skin to be clear in case I meet someone.”

“You met me. And now you’re kidnapping me to pay it forward?” Nicole asked sarcastically.

“No.” Waverly shook her head, then pinched the bridge of her nose. “I have to rescue Wynonna.” She pointed at the house. “I know she’s going to try something stupid on her own.”

“Just so you know, that’s where I was headed anyway.”

Waverly nodded and Nicole smiled as the other woman slumped back against the stern. 

Nicole resumed rowing, and after a bit they approached the beach. Nicole hopped out in the shallow water and pulled the boat up. She held out her hand to Waverly. “Can you stand?”

“I think so. Fortunately, it’s just my head that hurts.” Waverly said, as Nicole helped her out of the boat. Waverly steadied herself against Nicole’s strong arm. 

Nicole was intrigued by this mystifying, toothpaste-carrying woman. She looked up the cliff and considered her options. “So, we have a bit of a climb, unless you know an easier way up. Any secret entrances to the lair?” 

Waverly shook her head. “Clootie said he picked this house because the cliff gave him a defensive advantage, but now he’s moving his base because he feels trapped.”

“Why not wait for the move and escape then?” Nicole asked.

“Because I don’t think we’re going to be a part of that move. Clootie took me because he thought I had some valuable information. He took Wynonna to use as leverage over me. Also because she’s a brat and made fun of the amount of eyeliner he wears.”

“Your sister sounds charming.”

“You have no idea.”

“Well, if we need to climb, then we better get started. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Nicole, you’re my hostage. Let me worry about that.” Waverly walked up to the sloped wall and tried to step up. Her foot immediately slipped when the sandal she was wearing slid off.

Nicole watched her in bemusement. “You’re seriously trying to climb in Birkenstock’s? What are you? Lesbian?” She smirked.

Waverly frowned and turned to Nicole. “I’ll have you know that lesbians aren’t the only people who wear Birkenstock’s. They’re very comfortable; I forget I even have them on.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Yeah, well, look at you,” Waverly pointed at Nicole. “With your defined shoulders and strong arms; your sports bra clinging to your breasts; and your long legs… Wait, where was I going with this?” 

“I think you were about to ask me if I’m a lesbian.” Nicole answered.

“Yeah,” Waverly agreed. “So, just because you’re strong, does that make you a lesbian?” Waverly asked snidely. 

“Yes.” Nicole smiled. 

Waverly’s eyes popped open. “Oh.”

“How about I follow you. See if you can make it to that ledge.” Nicole pointed a third of the way up the cliff where an outcropping created a narrow shelf.

“Ok.” Waverly tried to say casually. She was still staring at Nicole.

“And you might want to try barefoot, tuck your sandals into the back of your shorts.” Then she muttered, “if there’s room.”

Waverly ignored that last comment, slipped off her shoes, and tucked each in a back pocket before starting her climb. Nicole chuckled lightly and followed close behind. 

They made it to the ledge, but slowly. When Nicole climbed up, Waverly looked very pale. 

“Hey, are you ok? You’re not going to faint, are you?” Nicole took Waverly’s arm.

“My head hurts.” Waverly said without looking up. 

“Ok, change of plans. Can you hold onto me?”

“What do you mean? Like a piggyback ride?”

“Yep. I’ll climb, you just worry about holding on.” 

“Ok, but you’re still my prisoner. So don’t get any funny ideas.”

“What, like kidnapping you and commandeering your Birkenstock’s?” Nicole laughed.

“Smart ass. You’re just as bad as Wynonna.” Waverly said, before climbing onto Nicole’s back. “Are my hands and feet going to get in your way?” She brought her arms around Nicole’s chest, and her legs around Nicole’s hips. Waverly’s face rested against the back of Nicole’s neck.

“I’ll make do.” 

The rest of the climb went even slower. Thankfully, it wasn’t a difficult or vertical climb. When they reached the top, Waverly rolled off of Nicole’s back and found Wynonna’s abandoned flyer. 

“That gives me an idea.” Waverly said. She took the wing and bent back one side until it snapped. Pulling it free from the fabric, Waverly brandished the stick like a spear. “This way we’ll have a weapon. Who knows what we’ll find inside.”

 

Wynonna:  
Wynonna crept down the hallway, keeping a keen ear out for any noise. So far, she’d been through most of the house and didn’t find a single person. She was starting to think that Clootie took off when he finished moving and abandoned the sisters at the house. However, Clootie’s office was at the end of the hall, and Wynonna wasn’t taking any chances. 

She reached out and gently took the doorknob in her palm and gave it a tentative turn. The handle rotated and she felt the door go free from the frame. Slowly opening the door, she stooped and peeked in through the small gap. Seeing nobody, Wynonna threw the door open sharply with a bang and shouted as she jumped in the room. The room was empty but for a heavy wooden desk. Wynonna let out a deep breath and rolled her eyes. 

“Figures, he’d leave us.” She scowled.

Just then a slow, harsh clap came from behind her. Wynonna whipped around to see Clootie in his trench coat, fedora, and eye make-up. 

“I didn’t leave you.” His dark voice rang out. 

“Clootie.” Wynonna spat.

“Wynonna.” He said in an eerily calm retort. 

“I see you’re unarmed.” Wynonna raised her eyebrows and tried to appear unfazed. “And still taking makeup tips from ‘A Clockwork Orange.’”

“I see you’re all alone.” He chuckled. “Plus, I don’t need a weapon to hurt you. All I need to do is tell you that I watched your sister fall into the sea during her pathetic bid for freedom.” He waited for his words to take their desired effect. “She’s gone and now there’s no one left to save you.”

“Except her sister.” Waverly shouted as she burst into the room and jabbed Clootie in the eye with her stick. He shrieked and ran from the room, clutching his face. Nicole ran in behind Waverly and caught her as she stumbled backward. Waverly brought a hand to her forehead and muttered a “thanks.” Clootie’s scream could be heard trailing through the house.

Wynonna ran to the window just in time to see Clootie emerge from the back of the house, stagger out across the short yard, and stumble over the cliff. A hapless end to an ineffective villain. “Boy, am I glad to see you.” Wynonna laughed. “So, who’s the eye candy?” She pointed at Nicole.

“This is Nicole; she’s a lesbian.” Waverly‘s eyes shot open as she caught herself. “I mean, she’s a fisher-person.” She blushed hard.

“You’re into fish?” Wynonna smirked. 

Nicole pursed her lips and replied, “Only the wet kind.” 

Wynonna nodded in approval. “I like her.” Then she looked at Waverly harshly. “Thanks for the rescue, but what are you doing here? I told you to escape.”

“Yeah well, I’m the sister that knows you’re crazy enough to fight Clootie alone.” Waverly stamped her foot. “I’m the sister that knows you’re as good at getting yourself out of trouble as Clootie was at putting on makeup.” She shouted. “And I’m the sister that knows that the fastest way to blind someone is to poke them in the eye with a stick!” She was vibrating in anger. “Gah, my head!”

“Remind me not to get on her bad side.” Nicole muttered, as she hugged Waverly back to her side. “One question, if we’re all alone, how are we going to escape?”

“Easy,” said Wynonna. “Take Clootie’s truck.”

The three women made their way out of the house, Waverly leaning heavily into Nicole. Outside the front door, waiting on the circular driveway stood a small, orange and white moving van. 

Nicole looked at Waverly with a smile. “A U-Haul?”

“I didn’t pick it.”

“I’m driving.” Wynonna called, as she walked up to the cab.

“No way,” Nicole said, hugging Waverly’s shoulder. “I got this.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my daughter for beta reading this and suggesting “cow pie” as a particularly Waverly-ish insult.


End file.
